


“whats better than this? just two guys bein dudes, one week, no rules,”

by ribbontype



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 10:51:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12408933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbontype/pseuds/ribbontype
Summary: Dirk and John are superheroes who may or may not have fallen into a pattern of getting handsy with each other after some particularly daunting Crime-Stopping.





	“whats better than this? just two guys bein dudes, one week, no rules,”

**Author's Note:**

> Do I have a larger au in mind for this? Yes. Will you ever get anything besides this porny oneshot? Probably not. here you go.

“This is a really stupid idea,” you manage to huff out between breaths not because you have any intention of stopping what you’re doing, but more because you need to at least be able to pretend that you considered being responsible for a few moments so you won’t disappoint your dad.

Even though you’re probably disappointing him for like eighty seven other reasons right now! But that’s not the issue here. The issue here is that Dirk (Dirk? Dirk. If that is his actual name, might not be, knowing what little you know of him. Superheroes are very private types. You’d know.) is probably a bit too injured to justify grinding against you in a public restroom. You know you could never convince him to go see a doctor, god forbid, but maybe you could at least get him to go home. Or something. Ugh. Though that’d mean you’d have to stop grinding against him and that doesn’t seem too appealing when you give it more than a moment’s thought.

“Yeah dude,” he replies. “Of course it’s a stupid idea. Going back to pre-homosapien times when man’s ancestors got their thrills playing full contact mammoth polo there hasn’t been one recorded case of anyone hopped up on adrenaline and horniness making anything but bad decisions.”

“But-”

“-So think of it this way. In the grand scheme of bad decisions I can think of at least three worse decisions we could be making in this bathroom. The first one is we could be smoking, which, if any teen movie I’ve ever seen is to be believed is the plague of public lavatories. Two, we could-”

You move your mouth from just across from his to directly on top of it and muffle whatever stupid idiot thing he was about to take too long saying because geez! What a windbag! Hah. You’re both windbags, that means! You can’t quite stifle a chuckle at your own joke and he just hums back into your mouth in response. 

“Are we going to do this?” He asks, leaning back against the countertop you’re pressing him against and breaking the kiss. 

He always asks, every time, even when he knows the answer is yes, but he’s cautious, and you think, nervous too, more so than he likes to admit. You run your hand over the black padding of his outfit, trailing from his shoulder to his hip and resting right above the incredibly geeky looking (but admittedly equally as useful) toolbelt he always keeps around his waist. 

“Yeah, unless you don’t want to. Two way street, buddy!”

“I want to.” 

You unbuckle his toolbelt and it falls to the ground with an incredibly unsexy series of clinks. A few ball bearings go rolling across the pristine marble floor of the bathroom, echoing louder than you’d think possible. He’s left standing in front of you in the remainder of his hero outfit, which, if toned down and removed of a few of its more bionicle-like aesthetic choices, might actually be kind of fetching. 

It’s mostly black which, along with the toolbelt, makes him look kind of like some shitty wannabe batman but it makes sense for someone who spends as much time skulking around at night as he does. The hood is large and loose, which confused you until the first time you managed to get it off of him and you realized it was so it does the least amount of damage to his painstakingly molded hair. From the neck down, though, it’s all skintight spandex and leather padding almost carapace-like over the important parts. To top it all off there’s a few instances of metal plating that has no conceivable purpose to you. He completes the look With a pair of knee-high boots that look like chrome spats over bowling shoes.

You hate it a lot, really.

His hands trail up to your neck and you shiver as one presses up against a developing patch of bruises.

“Looks like you took a few nasty hits today,” he mutters and you’re pretty sure you see a flush forming on the bits of his face that aren’t obscured by the hood.

You rip the damn thing off. Yeah. definitely flushed. 

“You too!” You poke him in the side and he hisses. “So maybe we should just call it quits on the whole getting off in the bathroom of a building that is probably about to start being un-evacuated and just go home for some bandaids. 

“Hell no. Listen you may be talking the responsibility talk but either that’s your boner pressing up against my thigh right now or your crime-fighting pyjamas have pockets that I didn’t know about and you’re keeping salami in there. Just a fat sausage of some grade-A beef.” He grabs your dick through your pants for emphasis and you gasp, burying your face against the crook of his shoulder. “Yeah. That’s what I though.”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you mutter. “Jeez, maybe some day we’ll stop being so weird and we can get our asses kicked without it being some kind of fucked up turn on.”

“Hmm,” he starts rubbing you for real now. “Nah. I’m not much of a philanthropist. I only got into the vigilante business as a means to circumnavigate pay-per-view fees on pornography.”

“Jesus dude, just torrent it.”  
“That would be a crime. I’d have to turn myself in.”

“God! Shut up-”

There’s a muffled sound from outside the bathrooms that could either be a door slamming somewhere down the hallway, meaning the opera house you’re holed up in is recovering from the earlier evacuation, or the baddies you dealt with earlier are back for a second round.

You pray for the latter.

“Fuck, John, we’re gonna have to do this fast. Let’s just-”

“Yeah, yeah, hold on.”

You start trying to figure out how to deal with the convoluted combination of straps and snaps that holds his shirt on until he takes pity on you and grabs your wrists loosely, yanking your hands to the places they need to be until he can slip off the outer layer. Taking off the tank top he wears as an undershirt is much easier and you finally have unrestricted access to his neck, god bless the U.S.A. It takes a bit of tip-toeing for height, but you place your lips at the junction between his jaw and neck and graze your teeth against the skin there.

His hands find their way into your hair and he starts carding his fingers up from the base of your hairline to your crown, sending shivers down your spine. It feels good, god, it feels so good you can’t even be mad at him for not taking off his dumb gloves because even the sensation of the smooth leather on your skin is getting you riled up.

“John,” he starts sternly. You wait for him to continue for a pause until you realize he must be waiting for something from you.

“Uh. Yeah?”

“Will you fuck me?”

“You mean like? For real, like, full on?”

“Yeah. Like ‘full on’ and everything. You in?”

“I’m trying to resist making a joke about being in you, but. I mean- I’m up for it. I just don’t. Have anything?”

“You got a dick, don’t you?” 

“Well,” you’re really glad you’re not printer-paper pale like he is. Your skin is much too dark to give away how horrifically embarrassed you are by this whole thing. “I mean. I don’t have any condoms, or lube, and-”

“Listen. I trust you. If you’ve got an STD tell me now, and if you don’t, then we’ve got no problem, but I think we’ve been in enough life threatening situations together at this point that I feel comfortable letting you plow me like a cornfield. If you’re not cool with that, that’s fine and I’ll just go home and get intimate with what I can assure you is a diverse and stimulating collection of dildos but either way I’ll be thinking about you and those bruises on your neck. So you might as well make a direct deposit to my spank bank instead of just mailing me a check.”

“Jesus,” is really all you can say because, jesus. “Well. Here goes nothing then.”

“You have such a way with words.”

You grab him by the hips, taking care to avoid the field of bruises on his waist, and set him on the countertop. The large, filigree-framed mirrors above the sink let you see the whole ordeal from every angle. Whatever idiot built this rich-people bathroom probably didn’t intend it for adrenaline-induced quickies, but it still wasn’t the worst place to have one. You tug at the hem of Dirk’s pants and he wordlessly lifts his hips in compliance, allowing you to slide them and his underwear down as far as they’ll go. Admittedly, it’s not super far, because his fucking cyber-clown crimeboots stop them around the upper shin, but it’s enough room for you to dip under. Another ambient noise from the hallway spurs you on and you decide to not waste any more time, burying your mouth between his legs.

“God, fuck-”

It’s not the first time you’ve eaten Dirk out in a building you just got done saving, but it’s definitely gonna be one of the best. He’s already soaking wet by the time you get your tongue dragging across his clit and you can feel his legs start to tremble as he wraps them tighter around your shoulders. His boots dig into your back in a way that’s more distracting than sexy, but that slight distraction is the only thing keeping your brain from thinking about how turned on you are. Honestly, there’s not much that gets you worked up like this, seeing him so desperate.

You circle your tongue around a few times before skirting sideways towards his inner thigh and pulling part of the flesh into your mouth and sucking. The skin there blooms with a satisfying wine color. You can taste his sweat on him, half from the fight, half from the building heat between the two of you. It’d be gross if it wasn’t so damn hot. If you were willing to give it some thought you might be able to puzzle why the idea of walking right off the battlefield and going directly to sex is so appealing to you. You’re not willing to give it any thought. You suck another hickey into Dirk’s thigh and sweep your tongue along them just to see him shiver.

“C’mon, John. Foreplay’s nice and all but we’re in a bit of a hurry at the pleasant moment. Wine and dine me later.”

“Okay, jeesh, sorry. I’ll be a gentleman on my own time!”

You bury your tongue inside of him before he can come up with a clever retort and start spreading him with your hands so you can really get in there. Your right thumb takes your tongue’s old place, spinning spirals against Dirk’s clit, and you feel his walls pulse against your mouth in tandem with the touches. You swallow down as much of him as you can, but he starts gripping your hair again and pressing your face down as hard as he can against his own pelvis and before you know know it you’ve got his cum smeared across your cheek and down your chin. You catch a few glances of yourself in the mirror and you look like you’ve been tossed into a tornado and then glazed like a donut. You can’t bring yourself to care.

“Shit. Shit-I’m. Close. Keep going, Jesus, keep going.”

You oblige. You switch rapidly between diving your tongue in deep and dragging it out, pressing the tip flat against his skin as you pull back, and flicking it back over his clitoris. Your breath comes in ragged pants as you struggle to get enough air into your lungs, which is stupid because you have wind-based superpowers that you’re sort of underutilizing here but that takes way more focus than you could have while you’ve got someone essentially riding your face. Your boner starts protesting its neglect louder than you can ignore and your hand begins creeping its way towards your penis.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Dirk chokes out. “Want it inside me.”

Yeah, fuck. Not much arguing with that. You take one last deep thrust into him with your tongue and curl it as you pull back. In one swift motion you stand up and grab the back of Dirk’s neck, pushing him down to meet you. He doesn’t hesitate. Never has, probably won’t start any time soon. He simply opens his mouth and accepts you, letting you thrust your tongue into his throat alongside copious amounts of his own cum. He just moans and you swear a ripple passes through his whole body. You’ve done this with him enough times to know that he meant it when he said he was close.

It doesn’t take much more. Your mouth doesn’t detach from his as you work two fingers into him, stretching him out as your thumb keeps working on his clit. In only a few breaths, he’s clenched down around your hand like a vice and dripping onto the countertop. This counter probably cost more than your whole apartment and you just made some dude come on it. Score. 

Dirk isn’t very vocal when it comes to sex which is a small blessing when you tend to fuck in public places. You can tell he’s near spent, though, as his chest heave and his breathing comes short and sharp. He flops bonelessly backwards against the mirror and probably leaves a gross sweaty streak that the janitor is going to have to deal with. You can’t bring yourself to care much.

“Ready?” you ask.

“Ready.”

You focus exactly long enough to swell up a gust of wind behind him, sweeping him into your arms and then spinning the two of you against a sturdy, non-mirrored wall. He keeps himself propped up with his legs wrapped around your waist as you yank your pants down, which is impressive in and of itself, but you suppose his muscle tone isn’t just for show. It’s a little bit ridiculous to see him wrapped around you like this when he’s about a foot taller and significantly more spindly but you make it work. You wrap your arms back around him and brace against the wall, shifting your hips to be in line with his and immediately just the heat of his bare skin pressed against your dick is maddening. You’re probably more turned on that you’ve been in weeks and if Dirk’s first orgasm had anything to say in the matter, neither of you can last that much longer.

You start shifting, thrusting against him and slicking yourself up so the situation ends up as nothing but pleasurable for everyone involved. You slip in like a dream because he’s just that god damned soaked, and it takes about half your willpower to stop yourself from coming on the spot.

You haven’t really been actually inside of someone since your last serious girlfriend, and that was an almost shamefully long time ago. But it’s not even just the tightness and warmth of him that’s so much to handle, it’s the complete and unfiltered rawness of it all. You haven’t done anyone bareback in, well, ever, and the sensation is almost maddening. You feel like you can feel everything, like his heartbeat is welling up through you. You screw your eyes shut as tight as they’ll go because you can’t tell if you’ll burst or just start crying if you look at him right now.

Picking up the pace only feels natural and you start to thrust. Neither of you are strangers to getting rough and soon your even thrusts degrade into just hammering him against the wall with a force that rattles the motel-quality paintings on the adjacent wall. He slams his head back and moans probably a bit too loud and you cut him off with a hand over his mouth.

“If we get caught before we’re finished I’m gonna have blue balls so bad I might actually die,” you groan. “So. Shh. Shoosh.”

He keeps moaning into your hand. Not much further in you start to falter and you feel your orgasm pushing it’s way out of you. A wave of tension pulses through you and you almost don’t notice that Dirk has one of his own hands between his legs now, rubbing himself while you fuck him senselessly.

“Dirk, I’m gonna-”

He doesn’t even let you finish before he clenches his legs around you like a vice, keeping your hips pressed flush together and oh my god he wants you to come in him. He wants you to just come directly into him and he pulses around you with his own orgasm and that it you’re gone, you’re done, and you smash him against the wall one last time as you just spill inside of him. He trails kisses around your forehead and face while he tries to catch his breath.

“Holy shit dude.” You say.

“Yeah, damn,” He gasps out. “Been a little while since I had something that intense. Gotta admit, I wouldn’t peg someone who’s superhero name is ‘Boy Skylark’ for a good lay but you always manage to prove me wrong.”

“Happy to be of service.” As you slip out of him you can see your own cum start to leak out after you and dribble in beads down his leg. Speaking of spank banks you’re pretty sure that’s now the only thing in yours, because you’re trying to imagine anything hotter than that and just coming up blank. He slides down against the wall and sits limply on the cool stone floor.

“Unfortunately,” he sighs, “we should probably clean this up.”

“I told you, this was a bad idea!”


End file.
